Emotional Landscapes
by mirrorOfsin
Summary: She watches O'Brien leave quickly and Cora feels her heart sink but she doesn't comprehend the damage her words have done. Set after 3x03. Femslash and some light/vague mature content.


**A/N:** Set after 3x03 and all AU. Of course I own nothing.

Emotional Landscapes

As she hears the words come from her own mouth, _I do feel let down_, and she looks at her maid, she regrets them. Her maid blinks at her, her lips part a little as if to say something but the knock at the door stops her. There is no time to say anything else, Mrs Hughes has come and as Cora gives O'Brien a single look along with a dismissal, she catches the hurt that flashes in her maid's eyes. She watches O'Brien leave quickly and Cora feels her heart sink but she doesn't comprehend the damage her words have done.

-/-

There is a strain in their interactions now. Her maid goes about her work with minimal conversation and a stiffness in her posture. Her hands are swift and do not linger as they once used to in Cora's hair, neck or shoulders. Their eyes barely meet in the mirror and they do not share easy smiles or light touches. When she would have once amused Cora with humorous grumblings of downstairs, she only really speaks when spoken to and her words are void of any true emotions. She dresses and undresses her mostly in silence and Cora feels as if the silence will slowly suffocate her. O'Brien does as she is asked but does no more than that. No extra little touches like flowers with her breakfast or when she takes her hair down she doesn't gently massage her head where her hair has been pulled on throughout the day. And it hurts, Cora finds, a lot more than she could have ever imagined. The icy tension between them partly makes her want to scream and partly cry. She does neither but she doesn't know much longer she can stand this.

-/-

It doesn't go unnoticed either. Cora tries to speak about it with Robert but he is unhelpful and his reaction does not surprise her. He looks at her as if he thinks her mad for caring so much about a servant who he has never warmed to and Cora cannot help but feel angry with him. She despises the double standard he has; that he can care about his old valet, Bates, who could do no wrong, but completely dismiss her lady's maid, a woman who has done more for her than Bates has ever done for his lordship, with a mere shrug. He doesn't see, or doesn't _want_ to see, how unhappy this makes her and Cora doesn't mention it again, to him or to anyone else. It is then she realises that she has lost the one person she confided in most to. Oh, of course there is Rosamund, but Cora knows she will receive little sympathy from her – though she does remember that Rosamund was rather fond of O'Brien.

So she keeps it within herself and with that begins to withdraw from her surroundings a little, sinking further into her unhappiness.

-/-

Nearly a month passes and it's a month too long. Finally she cannot stand it further, her mind made up after she endures another night of silence from her equally unhappy maid. Cora isn't blind and, although she tries so hard to hide it, Cora sees the injury her words had caused linger in her maid's eyes. Wrapping her dressing gown tightly around her body, she leaves her room and heads down to the servant's hall. She does not care for propriety at the moment and knows that it is unlikely that O'Brien has gone to bed yet – she has called for her at this time before and found her maid coming to her still dressed but smelling of cigarettes (the last she has before she goes to sleep). She sees Mrs Hughes and not wanting to engage in any conversation, she presses herself into a small alcove until the housekeeper is far away enough before she slips out and makes her way out into the courtyard. Surrounded by a haze of smoke, she sees her maid leaning against the brick wall and watches the way she takes a deep drag of her cigarette before dropping the butt onto the floor and stubs it out, grinding it into the ground with perhaps more force than necessary. Cora thinks that maybe she imagines that it is her she wishes to crush and although that thought makes her wince, she also thinks that it is perhaps what she deserves.

She moves towards her and when her maid sees her, she is startled, pushing off the wall and staring at her as if she were some apparition. Then she schools her face so Cora cannot read her before she asks:

"Is there something the matter milady? Do you need something?"

Cora breathes in the smoky air and suddenly feels nervous for which she tells herself is foolish. But it is true, she feels not like a lady about to address her maid, but more like a naughty child about to confess to her mother her wrong doings. She almost laughs at the absurdity of it all.

"I wish to speak with you."

O'Brien frowns before glancing around. There is no one here of course, Thomas has long since stopped coming out into the yard if she was there and there was no chance of him coming now. The other servants were already either in bed or heading there and Mrs Hughes trusts her enough it seems to lock the door once she has finished.

"Yes, milady?"

Cora swallows and then begins the speech she has rehearsed. "I wish for us to move past what was said the day before Lady Edith's…" she trails off, unsure how to phrase her daughter being jilted at the alter in a way that doesn't sound so indelicate. "Lady's Edith's unfortunate day. It was a simple misunderstanding and we must put this behind us."

She looks at O'Brien to see her maid is staring intently down at her clasped hands. Cora swallows again and licks her lips before she continues. "I wish for us to be as we were."

That makes O'Brien look at her and there is something in her eyes but Cora cannot place it. It makes her heart beat faster and she glances away.

"You must know how much I value your skills," the words are out before she has thought about them and in the only indication of how they have affected O'Brien is shown in the slight twitch of her body and curl of her fingers. "And friendship," Cora hastily adds and curses herself for her thoughtlessness. "Above all your friendship."

O'Brien inclines her head but there is no softening of her body or eyes and there is another silence between them.

"Thank you, milady," O'Brien says eventually but there is nothing in her voice that makes Cora feel any better and there is nothing else she can say. She must remind herself that she is a lady, and ladies do not beg for forgiveness from their servants – that's the cold truth of it. That she has offered this much, she knows, is more than any other lady in her position would do.

"Very well, I will bid you goodnight," she says and attempts a smile but it is too forced and her maid knows it.

"Goodnight milady," O'Brien says and Cora turns on her heel and walks back inside with her head held high though she feels a heavy sadness settle upon her. She hopes that in the morning it shall be better, that O'Brien would accept her apology (however badly formed it was, Cora admits to herself) and they will go on with this all in the past.

-/-

Morning comes and Cora is wrong. The silence that is between is possibly even more stressed than before and Cora fears that the damage has gone too far to be repaired. Last night seems to have only made things worse and Cora wonders how this could possibly go on any longer as she wraps her arms around herself in self-comfort when her maid leaves and she is left alone.

-/-

At night she is plagued with thoughts. Guilt and worry make her toss and turn and unable to find any peace. Robert does not lie with her anymore, well at least not regularly and the emptiness of the bed further adds to her distress. When the lights go out and she lies in the darkness, old memories and thoughts rise up in her mind like a wave and she is helpless at the onslaught. She recalls the day she chastised O'Brien in the kitchens, watching her maid's cheeks flush with embarrassment and anger. The strain then had not lasted long though, especially after the accident…

That makes Cora pause and force back the tears that come easily. It is in a haze that she remembers any of it, a bloody, terrible haze through which there are only two things she remembers clearly: the pain and her maid. The first was eventually eased by the latter, who remained with her constantly, never once leaving her alone. She had murmured comforting words, brushed her tears away and when that wasn't enough, she held her tightly and Cora remembers how she had sobbed in her arms and was sure that she had felt the other woman tremble as if she was fighting back her own tears. O'Brien had said that she was to blame, had told her if only she had helped her, if she had picked up the soap… if only, if only, if only.

Cora dismissed this, it was an accident, a great and terrible accident. Yet, she thinks that her maid still harbours the guilt with her and so does she. For she thinks she is as much to blame. If only, if only, if only. She decides then not to think of how they could have prevented it and she does what she does best. She moves on.

It had drawn them close and it was after this tragedy that all the things that now Cora misses had begun. She thinks that a true friendship begun then. When she was taken ill, those dark days when everyone was so sure she would not make it through, her only memories are of her. They told her that she had not left her side, exposed to the risk of falling ill too, and her heart felt as if it would burst from her chest, her throat constricted and tears burned in her eyes. O'Brien never mentioned it, never said how looking after her had taken its toll on herself, and Cora couldn't think of a way of displaying her gratitude so she thanks her as warmly as she can (though she knows it is not nearly enough) and they move on once again.

They had been through things so much worse than this so why is it that now they cannot simply overcome this? Maybe it is because of all the things that have passed which makes this only so much worse.

She wipes a tear that escapes her and wonders why it feels as if her heart was breaking.

-/-

It seems only natural that the storm would soon be unleashed. It has been brewing between them, _in _them, rising closer and closer to the surface till it would break. They have been pulled too taunt to take anymore and so, after a particularly trying day with her husband (his inability to provide her with any comfort recently vexes her), listening to Mary and Matthew snipe over something trivial, a rather dismal sounding letter from Sybil (to her, Sybil's descriptions of her life in Ireland always seem dismal) and the sadness in Edith, finally she shatters as her temper is roused.

"For goodness sake O'Brien!"

Her maid looks at her with a startled expression before she becomes sombre once more, which irritates Cora further. "Milady?"

"I would have thought my apology was sufficient enough and I am trying to overcome this, yet it seems you are being particularly difficult," she says icily. Her maid regards her carefully, eyes narrowing a little and she shifts on her feet, taking up a stance as if she is preparing herself for a battle.

"Perhaps, milady, that is because it was not an apology."

Cora stares at her. She has always allowed O'Brien to have a degree of freedom of speech when they are in private but at this moment her insolent tone and the defensive expression she wears only riles her.

"You seem to have forgotten that you are my lady's maid."

"I haven't forgotten," O'Brien replies quietly and her eyes are hard as she looks at her. "I know very well that is my skills you require, nothing more."

Cora gapes at her and her body trembles with fury. "If that is how you feel them perhaps you _should _leave."

The words are out once again before she has thought them through and she watches O'Brien's lips part in shock and her eyes widen. Suddenly it's as if Cora has somehow come out of herself, so that she hears herself gasp, covering her mouth with her hand before she has even registered that she has done this. She sees O'Brien move towards the bedroom door, her eyes filled with pain and it jolts her back.

"No…" Cora manages to whisper and she is on her feet, trembling and running towards her, half tripping on her nightgown and she hears it rip. She clutches the other woman by her arms, drawing her back into her room, back to her, and she starts to cry. She is suddenly terrified and it is overwhelming the pain she feels, the startling realisation that she had almost let the woman who she never knew meant so much to her, go. The fear of losing her has her shaking and gripping her tightly, most likely hurting her. She is semi-aware that her mouth is saying things like _please_ and _don't leave me_ but it is barely recognisable above her crying. She half-slumps against her and it is only O'Brien's strong arms that are keeping her from becoming a crumpled mess on the floor. Always there, she thought distantly, always there to hold her.

O'Brien brings her to the bed and there Cora turns to her, still clutching at her like a child to its mother. Soon her sobs subside, her breathing evens out and she sighs against her, loosening her hold just a little. She lifts her head to meet O'Brien's eyes and she cannot fathom what she sees there, only that they have softened and no longer look at her in accusing glances.

"I do not wish for you to leave," she breathes and O'Brien lowers her eyes.

"Surely you must know, milady, I wouldn't leave you unless you told me to," she mutters, her hands now in her lap, clench in her black skirt. Cora carefully covers her hands with one of her own and with the other, she tips O'Brien's chin so that she can see her eyes. "I wouldn't ever want to let you down milady," she whispers and Cora thinks she might cry once more.

Instead, she finds herself stroking O'Brien's jaw, slipping her touch down to her throat. She leans in and presses her lips against her forehead and her maid's eyes flutter shut. Cora's heart begins to beat faster in her chest, she swallows but it does not help the dryness of her mouth and throat and a fluttering sensation in her stomach makes her catch her breath. She does not think as she presses light kisses over O'Brien's cheeks slowly and then her lips hover hers, enough to make the other woman look at her through half-lidded eyes which only close as Cora presses her lips down. A tremble works its way through her body as seems to pass through to O'Brien, for she feels her body quake and her lips fracture a little.

Cora lifts her head away for a moment, enough for them both to look at one another once more, before she kisses her again. Mouths part hesitantly, a sigh escapes and Cora's hands move up to hold her by her waist as O'Brien's wrap around her shoulders.

This time when they part, both are panting for breath, blushes stain their cheeks and they are mirroring looks of wonder and the faintest sparks of desire on their faces. When O'Brien leaves her, Cora tumbles back into her bed, her body flushed and she sinks into sleep welcomingly as all thoughts fade and only the impression of O'Brien's mouth against her own remains.

-/-

The flowers are back. So are the smiles in the mirror (however tentative they might be). Conversation has yet to become as enthused as it once was, but at least there are no longer large gaps of silence. Her mood brightens and it is noted but she offers no explanation to the questioning eyes of her family. Her only problem now though is that they have not spoken at all of what passed between them. They do not speak of the kisses and she is strangely discontent with this. But now is not the time, both are still sore and slowly healing.

-/-

Ripon is busy with the most eager of the Christmas shoppers and they find themselves caught up in the enthusiasm as well. They have just come from a store where Cora has purchased gifts for her daughters and husband, and they step out onto the chilly street. Cora's excitement makes her maid smile and they turn to walk back to where the car and driver are waiting for them just a little further up. What happens next passes in a blur as, for one moment, Cora is walking with her lady's maid by her side as she tugs on her gloves and the next her arm has been grabbed hold of and she is slammed against the wall of the store they had come from with her maid's body is pressed tightly against her own. The air is knocked out of her lungs and she hears dimly the sound of someone screaming, horns beeping and men shouting angrily as she remains stunned and immobile. A car has swerved up onto the pavement, (the very spot where she had been standing), in order to miss a child that had quite suddenly appeared on the road. Her maid had acted out of pure instinct, snatching her out of harm's way and further protecting her by shielding her with herself. Her heartbeat is erratic and all she could do was stare wide-eyed at her maid, her saviour, as she gasps for air.

All of this happens seems to happen in a mere moment but for Cora it feels like a lifetime from when their bodies are pushed together to when they part. The blood thundering in her ears deafens her and she watches as her maid turns and stalks up to the driver who is torn between profusely apologising and scolding the young boy and his mother who is sobbing as she grips onto her child's hand. O'Brien's anger is fuelled by fear, fear that her lady could have been hurt and for a reason it makes Cora feel giddy. Slowly her senses return and she moves towards the others. They all beg forgiveness but she barely looks at them. She says words, something like no harm done and the woman should keep a better hold of her child before she says it's time to go. The crowd which has gathered around them slowly disperses, no doubt eager to tell this story to their friends and family and Cora takes a shaky step forward. Their driver, who has witnessed the whole scene, is upon them and holds him arm out for Cora to lean upon and she gratefully accepts. She turns to O'Brien and sees that she is holding her hands up inspecting them. They are grazed, slightly bloody and immediately she is at her side, taking them gently into her own assess the damage.

"You are hurt," she says, her voice breaking a little. O'Brien gives the mildest of shrugs for she cares more that her hands are becoming cold and protests when Cora finds a handkerchief and dabs at the blood.

"We must get you home," she said rubbing her gloved hands over O'Brien's exposed fingers in an attempt to warm. They go back to the car and for the whole ride back to Downton, Cora keeps O'Brien's hands in hers.

-/-

Cora causes a great deal of fuss, insisting that she bathes O'Brien's wounds herself and waits in the sitting room for the warm water and bandages to come. Mrs Hughes raises one eyebrow at O'Brien as if to say has her ladyship gone mad? For all could see that her wounds were nothing more than light scratches but Cora possess a streak for melodrama as so the grazes become as serious as a severed limb.

When she does clean her palms, she makes soothing noises and O'Brien finds that she is only too happy to have Cora's sole attention. Even when his lordship strides in and demands to know what happened – though he seems well informed by the chauffeur – Cora spares him only a quick glance before she smiles at O'Brien in a way that it would lift even the most melancholic of spirits.

"O'Brien saved me," she says simply and Robert doesn't know what to say so he leaves them, not noticing the way his wife ardently looks at her maid.

-/-

"When we are in private, I would wish for you to call me by my Christian name."

"Do you want to call me by mine," there is a pause. "Cora?"

"Would you want me to?"

"Yes."

"Then I shall, Sarah."

-/-

She hands her a standard gift, a new set of needles, threads and sewing scissors, but in her room she hand O'Brien, Sarah, her real gift. She opens it hesitantly and Cora watches her face intently, seeing the surprise mixed with wonder as she beholds a most beautiful brooch, gold and inlayed with a pink opal.

"I am told it means hope and love," Cora lowers her eyes, a little shy. "It means love but for faithful lovers."

Sarah stares at the gift and registers her words. She blinks as she feels tears sting her eyes and they do not escape Cora's notice for she wraps her arms about her and holds her close. This is the closest either one of them has come to saying the words that so far they have dared not say.

-/-

There is fire in her blood, it licks at her from the inside and burns beneath her skin. She aches and wants and needs and she knows, she _knows_, that she does too. She recognises this feeling, the way desire coils within her and the wet heat between her thighs. Once she had felt this way for her husband, now she feels this for her. For Sarah.

Cora stops her as Sarah bends to pick up Cora's stockings, taking them from her hands only to let them fall back down onto the floor, and leans in to kiss her. Sarah lets her and even kisses her back and Cora's hands come up to hold her face. She feels Sarah's fingers curl around her wrists and pulls them down and tips back her head breaking the kiss. She searches Cora's face, looking for something that she must have found there for she lets out a breath. Cora leans in and kisses her again, her wrists still enclosed by Sarah's fingers and she wriggles in her grasp for she wants to hold her, to feel her and once Sarah lets her go, she does just that.

There is a flurry of cotton, lace and silk. Laces are tugged free, skirts are lifted and bodies shiver with the meeting of hot skin with the cooler air. All the while mouths deliver the onslaught of kisses, punctuated with sighs, gasps and low moans as hands reach out, skin craving to feel skin. It is perhaps a little clumsy, half stumbling onto the bed getting caught in the sheets. There is desperation, yes, and now is not the time to learn one another (that time will come later) but rather they seek gratification for each other and for themselves. They learn quickly from the sounds the other makes, the calls of _yes, there!_ And _please, yes, please…_

They shatter, one after the other, and lie in a delirious state with limbs tangled and smiles on their faces. Before she is pulled under by sleep, Cora thinks that this is how it must be; to give one's self wholly and completely to another. To Sarah, who knows everything that is _Cora_.

-/-

Hours go by, as do the days, months and years. Some are eventful and some go quietly and unnoticed. New faces come as old ones leave and then, one day, Cora drifts off never to come back. She had smiled at her, _loved her_, until the very end, telling her in short little breaths, that she had made her most happy.

The world from then on holds nothing more for her, her very life is gone and so it comes as no true surprise that she too passes away, they say, with a mournful heart. They lie in the ground, Cora a few yards away from her but so close, and all that they shared remains with them in a peaceful silence.

_fin._


End file.
